


Memories Like Dreams

by sneetchstar



Series: Arya x Gendry Week 2020 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deja Vu, Dreams, F/M, axg week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneetchstar/pseuds/sneetchstar
Summary: Arya moves to Storm's End and discovers a strangely familiar diner with a strangely familiar patron
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Arya x Gendry Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862086
Comments: 20
Kudos: 135





	Memories Like Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Fifth prompt for Arya x Gendry Week 2020: Déjà Vu

Arya is tired. She knew the move from Winterfell from Storm’s End would be a Major Event, but she didn’t anticipate getting so tired just from unpacking boxes. She didn’t think she had a lot of belongings, but it seems like every time she turns around, there’s _another_ box.

She is actually thankful she took her mother’s advice (for once) and got her bedroom set up first so she would be able to just go to sleep when she was ready. However, her kitchen was still in complete disarray.

Last night, she ordered pizza (which turned out to be mediocre) and passed out shortly thereafter.

Now it's Friday night and she _needs_ to leave this apartment, so she goes out, heading towards a diner she saw down the street that looked interesting.

It’s an old, retro-styled diner, and when Arya walks in, her head swims.

_I’ve been here before._

“Hi, welcome to Hot Pie’s Diner. How many?” the hostess asks, her cheery voice snapping Arya out of her stupor.

“Just me. Can I sit at the counter?” she asks, spying a lunch counter with round, red vinyl stools.

“Of course,” the hostess answers, gesturing towards the counter.

_The countertop is going to be white with that retro boomerang pattern on it in red and black._

When Arya sits, she finds she is correct. She picks up the menu and everything looks familiar.

But she knows she’s never been here before.

She has only been to Storm’s End two times before. The most recent time was when she came to apply for the job that brought her here. The first time was when she was so young she hardly remembers it.

“Hi, can I get you something to drink?” a waitress asks.

“Just water for now,” Arya answers. “Hey,” she suddenly asks, a thought occurring to her.

“Yes?”

“How long has this place been here?” she asks. “I’m new in town.”

“Um, I think, like, five years? I’ve only been here a few months, but I’ve lived here my whole life. This building used to be a bank,” the waitress answers.

“Thanks,” Arya replies. That kills her theory that her family came here to eat when she was three years old and that’s why she is having this weird feeling that she has been here before.

The waitress returns with her water, in exactly the type of glass Arya was expecting.

She’s starting to freak out a little. She hopes it doesn’t show because she doesn’t want people thinking she is a crazy person.

Arya orders her dinner – which is breakfast, because she loves breakfast for dinner – and looks around the place, willing her stubborn brain to tell her why she seems to know this place.

She even spins around on her stool to face the rest of the place, her shrewd eyes scanning the place. Red vinyl booths, retro decorations on the walls, an old-style (and likely not functional) jukebox in the corner. She recognizes all of it.

She even knows where the bathrooms are, but isn’t yet brave enough to go and see if the doors are indeed labeled ‘guys’ and ‘gals.’

Then she hears it. A voice that is familiar but not, a voice that makes her turn and look towards the front again.

When she sees _him_ , it all comes into focus.

_It’s that stupid dream._

Arya has had a recurring dream for about five or six years now. It started when she was in college and hasn’t left her alone. And it’s _this_ exact diner, with _that_ exact man who has just walked through the door.

The exact man who is walking towards the counter right now. Arya turns around to face the counter again.

He sits one stool away from her, and she wills her head not to turn and stare because she knows if she turns and stares, she’s going to say something stupid and creepy about her dreams.

“Hey, Gendry,” the waitress greets him.

That’s something Arya didn’t know: his name.

“Hey, My,” he replies.

Arya had noticed her nametag read “Mya,” so they must be fairly close for him to have a nickname for her. She’s not sure how she feels about that. Logically, she knows she has no right to be jealous. He doesn’t belong to her; she doesn’t even know him.

“Did Dad call you?” Mya asks, setting a glass of what appears to be Sprite in front of him.

 _Dad. They’re siblings_ , Arya realizes, and she only notices then that they look very much alike.

“Yeah, but I didn’t pick up,” Gendry answers. “I don’t have the patience to deal with his bullshit today. I’ll call him back tomorrow. Maybe.”

Mya snorts. “It’s nothing major. Just wants to know if we want to go in on ’Cella’s birthday gift.”

“I got her something already,” Gendry answers. “Well, I made her something, actually.”

“Of course you did. What do you want to eat?”

_Double cheeseburger, no mustard, extra pickles, with fries and a side of hot wings._

“Double cheeseburger, no mustard, extra pickles, with fries and a side of hot wings,” he says, and Arya almost spills her water.

“You okay?” Mya asks her.

“Yeah, thanks, sorry. I’ve been unpacking all day and I’m just exhausted,” she answers. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Gendry’s head sharply turn to look at her, but she once again wills herself to not look.

Her food comes a few minutes later.

“That’s not breakfast combo number four, is it? With bacon extra crispy and scrambled eggs? With ketchup?” He hesitates, the adds in a trembling voice, “And you’re not thinking of getting a piece of strawberry pie for dessert, are you?”

Gendry’s hesitant question makes Arya drop her fork as was on its way from delivering a bite of pancakes to her mouth. She whirls to look at him. She had spotted the pies in the case by the counter when she sat down, but hasn’t uttered a word about it to anyone.

He looks just as spooked as she feels, but she can’t help blurting, “How did you know that?”

“I promise I’m not a creep, but… I have this re—”

“Recurring dream,” she finishes, overlapping him. “I do, too. Have had for around—”

“Five years,” he interjects. She sees him swallow, and is momentarily entranced by his Adam’s apple as it bobs in his neck. “Is your name Arya?” he whispers.

Her mouth drops open, but it’s in irritation this time. “How come you got my name in your dreams but I never got yours?” she demands. “I even saw these stupid countertops but never heard your name!”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling attractively.

“I knew exactly what you were going to order,” Arya says, and he turns serious again. “Even the extra pickles. Which is gross, by the way.”

“First, no it isn’t, and second, what the fuck is going on?” Gendry replies.

“I don’t know, but… do you want to join me for dinner?” she asks.

He scoots over to sit right beside her. “I would,” he answers. “And maybe… something after? Oh wait, you just said you were exhausted.” He looks at his hands in front of him on the counter, where he is nervously picking at his fingernails. “You just moved here, right?”

“What _is_ this? I know all the details about this place and you know all the details about me?” she asks.

He looks at her, his brow furrowing. “Maybe because I’ve always lived here and already knew this place?” he suggests.

“Maybe,” she allows with a shrug.

Mya returns then with Gendry’s food and gives them a strange look when she sees he has moved to sit beside Arya. “Making friends?” she says to him, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Something like that,” he mutters, lifting the top bun of his burger to make sure it’s correct.

Arya is still thinking about his suggestion of “something after.” She thinks about just inviting him over, but decides that she should probably wait. She lets him eat some of his dinner before working up enough courage to say, “Maybe… we can do something tomorrow? I mean, I’m still unpacking, but I can make some time…”

“I can help you unpack,” he immediately says, actually sounding like he _wants_ to. “Or if you have any furniture that needs assembling or electronics that need setting up, I can do that. I’m very good with my hands.”

She raises an eyebrow at him and he blushes. “I’m not going to turn down voluntary help from the man of my dreams,” she says.

He frowns. “You stole the line I was going to use on you,” he says, but his sour expression transforms when she laughs. “You have a great laugh,” he says.

She shyly smiles, then says, “Oh, _that_ wasn’t in your dreams?”

“Sadly, no.”

They finish their meals, making flirtatious small talk the whole time. By the time Mya comes with Arya’s pie, they have already entered their contact information into each other’s phones and followed all their social media accounts.

“Put her dinner on my tab,” Gendry says.

“No,” Arya protests.

Mya leans forward, her hand on the counter, and says, “You mean she gets her meal for free, then.”

“Obviously.”

“Gendry…”

Mya looks at her. “He eats here for free because he built half this place and Hot Pie is his best friend,” she explains.

“No. You are _not_ taking advantage that way,” Arya insists. When he opens his mouth, she cuts him off. “And I am paying for my own dinner,” she says, handing her card to Mya, who quickly takes it, sticks her tongue out at Gendry, and scurries away.

“You’re cute when you pout,” Arya says a moment later, and his ears turn pink. “Did you really build half this place?”

“Maybe,” he answers with a shrug.

“This is really good. Have you had this? Wait, you probably have, if he’s your best friend. His name is really Hot Pie?” she asks.

Gendry watches her, his face an expression of indulgent amusement. “I’ve had everything on the menu here several times over. I’ve been his test subject for years. His pies are the literal best. And Hot Pie is his real name, now. His parents didn’t name him that, but he changed it when he opened this place.”

“What was his name?” she asks in a hushed tone.

Mya comes back with the receipt for her to sign and says, “He won’t tell you. He won’t even tell _me_ , and I’m his sister.”

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy!” Gendry protests, his hand up in surrender.

“Right,” Mya says. “I’ll get it out of you,” she threatens, pointing her pen at him before walking away.

“Love you,” Gendry calls after her. She flips him off, and he laughs. He turns back to Arya, wondering if he needs to explain, but her amused face tells him he doesn’t.

“I have five siblings,” she says.

“I have three half-sisters and a half-brother. All five of us have different moms. And I also have three stepsiblings,” he replies. “My father is a walking problem.”

“Oof, sounds like,” Arya replies.

“I’m nothing like him, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“So…”

“Yeah.”

“I probably should go home before it gets too dark. I walked here,” Arya says.

“I walked here, too. Can I walk you home? For, you know, safety?” Gendry asks.

“Yeah, okay.”

Outside, her hand somehow finds its way into his as they walk.

“I live this way too,” he says. “This is weird, right?”

“It is, but… I kind of like it,” she answers. “I kind of like _you_.”

“I definitely like you,” he immediately replies. “I never would have imagined that those dreams… that you were a _real_ person.” They stop walking and he says, “And the real person is thus far so much better than the version in my dreams.”

“Wow,” she sighs, looking up at him. She shakes her head for a second. “Are you always this smooth?”

“Absolutely not,” he answers with a chuckle as they resume walking. “I’m usually hopeless. Ask Mya sometime. Or one of my other sisters, when you meet them.”

“When?”

“Oh, it’s definitely a ‘when.’ Now that I know you exist, I’m not letting you go,” he says. “But not in a chained-to-the-radiator-in-the-basement kind of way, honest.”

Arya barks a loud, surprised laugh. “This is me,” she says.

“Oh shit, I’m in the building next door,” he remarks.

“That’s… convenient,” she responds. “Um… thanks for walking me home. And for trying to buy my dinner.”

“You’re really great, Arya.”

“So are you. I, um, actually more than kind of like you,” she admits.

He turns to face her, still holding her hand. “You know, I always wake up just before…”

“Before what?” Arya asks in a whisper.

“Before I can do this,” he says, leaning down to place a soft, languid kiss on her lips, his fingertips gently resting on her jaw.

Gendry doesn’t make it back to his own place that night.


End file.
